Winter Knight Series Omakes
by Rage Buddha
Summary: The various omakes and oneshots from my Winter Knight Dresden series; some written by myself, some gifts from others.
1. Table of Contents

Ifve got some plans coming up for Out-Of-Universe Omakes/Outtakes/Short-Stories that Ifd rather not have mucking up the actual universe. Smut, excessive out of Character bits, and loads of violent bits that make absolutely no sense unless youfre one of the few people I talk to about the story about.

Oh well. Ill edit this when I can think about it to include Titles and authors if others gift them to me as they have before.

As Always; Many thanks to Jon and Nuhuh for the first two, and Shezza for so much inspiration! CHU! 3

Omake One; Welcome To The Hotel Never-Never (Surarrin/Jon/Ferrovax; Part One of the Maeve Arc)

Omake Two; The Winterfs Bloom (Nuhuh; Part two of the Maeve Arc)

Omake Three; Fear of the Wet T-Shirt (Jon; Part three of the Maeve Arc)


	2. Omake One

Welcome to the Hotel Nevernever

By Surrarin

----

It had been three months since I had last been in the Undertown hotel. Everything was still the same, not much changed when there were Sidhe involved; not quickly in any case.

A desk in one corner, an armoire in the next, both with the same pale wooden colour finished with a rich cherry varnish. Maroon carpet with a matching comforter on top of a bed covered in pale blue sheets- Something had changed I suppose; they changed the sheets from where I had slept last time.

It was winter, and surprisingly the room was warm, no doubt an extra comfort afforded by the Winter Court, although the cold didn't really bother me anymore. I flopped backwards onto the bed, sighing lightly as the mattress compressed mildly. I wonder if they'd let me take this bed home.

"Mr. Dresden?" a muffled, but familiar voice called from beyond the door.

I was surprised, last time the escort had waited until a few minutes before the formal ball.

"It's not locked," I called out, not bothering to get up off the bed. 

The door handle turned and clicked as it was pushed open. A light chill entered the room as a light breeze swept in. Out of the corner of my eye I caught a glimpse of black hair and a dash of blue.

"Trista?" I asked surprised.

"Yes," she affirmed, before her eyes widened slightly. "You remembered my name?" she murmured mildly shocked, her cheeks flushed softly.

I shrugged my shoulders lightly, there really wasn't much to answer.

"Why are you here so early?" I inquired nonchalantly.

"My apologies," Trista said with her timid voice, "I should have waited until the proper time," she said with a decided tremble in her voice, a tremble which usually came before a spectacular display of waterworks.

Great going Dresden, you managed to break the 'Not making girls cry' streak.

I sat up quickly as Trista made a move to leave the room and managed to grab a hold of her wrist. She didn't resist, which was surprising, instead she stood still, her face turned away.

"I'm glad you're here," I tried to say in a comforting manner, "I just didn't expect you so soon; it's a pleasant surprise."

"Do you mean that? Trista asked quietly, hopefully.

"I did," I affirmed with a light smile.

"Then, would you close your eyes for me?" she asked, the hope still resounding in her voice, before she quickly followed up, "I promise I won't do anything to hurt you."

She was still looking away, I couldn't see her face. She probably just wanted to clean her face up or something.

"Alright," I said after a few minutes of tense silence, letting go of her wrist.

I saw Trista visibly relax before my eyes fluttered closed. Whenever I force my eyes closed my body always tenses, it's something which has been built up over the course of the last twenty years. I'm not at home, so there is no safety other than what is provided by the Winter Court, which while still considerable, is not as comforting as the threshold of your own home.

The air shifted lightly as Trista turned around,

"You won't open your eyes until I tell you to?" Trista half-asked -half-told.

"I won't," I said a little more hesitantly, my mind wasn't exactly trusting where this was going, especially considering the last encounter I had with the petite young woman. My libido on the other hand...

The rustling of clothes filled my ears momentarily; it was indecisive; neither the sound of clothing being removed, nor the sound of it being straightened

"Trista?" I called out questionably.

"Shh, Harry," Trista's voice whispered from just in front of my face. "Just relax," she purred out.

I swallowed.

"I thought you weren't supposed to call me by my first name?" I asked, trying to divert the situation. The temptation to open my eyes was almost overwhelming as I felt her hot breath against my eyelids, but I couldn't, I realized soon after attempting to- I had slipped up and made a promise.

"My duties as your escort don't begin for another half hour," Trista answered easily.

A gentle pressure on my chest caused me to slip backwards onto the bed. Trista's hands clung to my shirt lightly, following me on my descent, "Open your eyes," she murmured

"I really don't think," I began to protest as I opened my eyes, before I felt a sharp sting on my neck- she had bit me. The raven and aqua haired girl quickly straddled me, and used her slight weight, and superior position to pin me down.

"Then don't," she purred out lustfully before grinding against my waist.

It was becoming increasingly easy to do just that, the arousing sensation of her ministrations were becoming increasingly good. My neck felt like it was on fire. I absently realized she hadn't bit me just for the kink factor, she had drugged me with something.

Whatever it was it was quickly lowering the inhibitions I had about her, It was an impulse I had not succumbed to for a while. Its effects were euphoric, in the back of my mind a voice was screaming to me it was like the Red Court's kiss, but it was quickly drowned out with sensations of pleasure as Trista clamped her lips down against mine. The voice that had been drowned out came back, it however wasn't with the same message, it urged me to give in. Because, after all. I was the Winter Knight, and a Winter thrall couldn't hurt me on purpose. She had said she didn't mean any harm either.

My arms, which had been trying to dislodge Trista from me quickly changed their mission. The lithe girl squealed in surprise, before moaning in approval at my actions. Her hands, which had been holding onto my chest unclenched, and within a second were ensnared around my neck. I could barely breathe; her mouth was suctioned to mine. I didn't try to break away, which seemed to egg her on.

The moment I tried to push the motions to my own preference she bit down hard, causing me to grunt in pain. She tutted me, drawing herself up and sitting against my lower stomach. She was frustrating. I reached up to touch her, but her fingers quickly intercepted, entwining with mine. Without her lips against me, I was able to regain enough sense to question how she was able to match my superior strength. She apparently was able to read minds also.

"My lady was gracious enough to endow me with a measure of strength, as a gift for my services to her, despite my failure to her," Trista said, as she stared down lustfully into my eyes.

My brain processed the information.

"Failure?" I echoed, my voice confused, and slightly husky.

"For you not taking me to your bed," she murmured sorrowfully, before the emotion disappeared, and was replaced with lust. "My punishment was fitting and ironic, my lady is truly brilliant," she murmured lowly, licking her lips.

"She punished you for not sleeping with me?" I asked, my brow furrowed, more reason was returning to me.

She noticed quickly and moved to remedy my clarity.

As she had before, I stopped her, holding her off, if only by an inch.

"Please, Harry," she begged pleadingly, her eyes clouded with lust, and dare I say it, fear, "If I don't she'll punish me again,"

"I'll take your punishment for you," I offered with an unsure smile. It was a spur of the moment thing, like when someone calls your name. You don't have time to stop yourself in most cases.

Trista shook her head.

"She won't accept the same punishment for you, it would be different." I had relaxed the tension in my arms slightly, she tried to take advantage of it, but I caught her a second too soon. Her lips managed to touch my skin, but only for a split second. The euphoric rush of bliss lasted for a split second, but I managed to abstain.

"What is she punishing you with?" I demanded to know.

Maeve was a bitch, but she was nothing if not creative in her punishments from what I'd heard. Her punishments for mortals wouldn't be anything like what she reserved for the immortals, but they would probably be just as despicable. I was hoping she didn't have anything which raked up there with throwing a Sidhe into an active volcano and keeping them there for a few years.

Trista ignored my question and began to gyrate her hips against mine. The sensation was maddening. She was far too confident in her position, above me, on top of me. I hooked my arm around her side and shifted my weight. A moment later she found herself under me in an awkward position. Apparently that didn't matter to her, her legs, which had been at my sides during the previous position, quickly found their way around my waist.

I grunted as her legs tightened around me and pulled me against her. Her free hand wrapped around my neck and pulled me down against her.

"I like," she purred down, biting down against my neck again.

I almost collapsed as she latched on again, her teeth breaking the surface of my skin. The sensations were inhumanly intense. It was only the intensity of them that reminded me what was happening.

"Just touch me," she begged, writhing against me, "Anywhere, everywhere, just don't stop," she moaned into my neck.

"No," I managed to say as I pulled away from her.

She looked like she was at the verge of crying with frustration.

"If I promise to tell you, will you let me?" she begged.

Being the Winter Knight was a lot more trouble then the power was worth. Simple promises had to be kept, there was no way around them. I found myself sympathizing with the Sidhe, and understanding the care they went through every conversation with. A small slip up and they were locked into something. I had learned that in an almost ironic way. I had promised Murphy I would come down to the station after nightfall to look through some crime evidence, which pointed towards the Red Court. I had no intention of doing so, but in the end I found myself going, and getting into a skirmish with half a dozen vampires on the way.

The deal she offered didn't really have any true negatives to it. Get the answers and get laid. I honestly had no idea why I was resisting, besides those pesky morals which dictated that I maintained an age limit. It might have been the narcotic effect her kisses had had, but it wasn't an offer I wanted to refuse.

"Alright," I finally said after a few minutes of silence.

Trista smiled brightly, it wasn't a lustful smile, it was a genuine smile, she leaned up to kiss me again, I leaned back and shook my head.

"Answers first," I demanded, ignoring the look of hurt on her face.

"My punishment has been that no other person than you are allowed to touch me, if they do, it hurts." Trista said, she looked mildly ashamed, and pained in a non-physical way, "Not even myself," she murmured shyly, before staring into my eyes imploringly.

"Can I please?" she asked pleadingly, her voice soft, sweet, there was no ulterior motive beyond it, she just wanted to be touched. She didn't wait for an answer, and I didn't deny her. It was a maddening thing to have no contact with other people. It was a human thing; the presence of other people was something we couldn't live without. The touch of another. It was something I missed too.

A soft, almost child-like laughter filled the room. it was musical, alluring. From the looks of it Trista recognized who it was too. A feeling of dread filled me, below me Trista looked like a deer caught in the headlights. I could hear her whispering something, softly inaudibly.

"No, no, no, no," she repeated in a small, anguish filled voice.

"I'm afraid I must cut your time together short," Maeve said with an apologetic voice, "I'm ever so sorry Harry, but you're required down stairs." I didn't have to look back, I didn't want to have the smug look I knew Maeve had upon her face in my mind.

How I hated that bitch.


	3. Omake Two

The Winter's Bloom

By Nuhuh

-----

I shut my eyes, trying to marshal my anger, it would be a bad idea to lose it with Trista underneath me; looking scared…and yet somehow excited. Her face and slightly ragged breathing distracted me and I realized how hard I was pinning her arms. I let go jerkily, shocked and disgusted by the red and white marks of my long hands on her smooth skin.

Her face changed right away, she looked forlorn and her tightly wound legs went limp. she hugged herself and I looked horrified as she covered the imprints of my hands and dug into her own arms even harder than I had been.

Maeve tsked haughtily from the door. "Poor Trista, you must learn the benefits of delaying pleasure…or pleasure and pain, the way you like it," she teased, making a soft smacking lips sound, somehow layering it with seduction. The panicked look came back on the girl under me, and I began to understand why she was clenching her hands over where I had bruised her. I sat back slowly; my mouth agape.

"You can't hide anything from your liege, foolish mortal. Did you think I would punish you with pain without making certain you only felt that and did not twist into sweet desire and," and here she sighed dramatically, letting it hang, then, "…satisfaction."

Trista's eyes shone and tears fell uncontrollably, in seconds her cheeks were wet and she had turned away from where Maeve and I could see her crying. I reached out with my hand, but then pulled it back before getting disgusted with myself and brushing her hair away from her face. She leaned into my touch even when she didn't want to show her face. I just can't see a woman cry. Maeve laughed behind us – I've probably never moved that fast in my life.

Winter's, and especially Mab's strength flooded in me. My body moved with the kind of swiftness that a Knight of the Queen of Air and Darkness should move. Cold, arctic air filled my lungs and when I breathed out it blew the thin air of high mountain ranges. At the end of my frigid hand I held the slender, perfectly shaped neck of Maeve, holding her two feet off the floor. She was slightly above eye level to me now, her white silky hair were spread wet on one side in front of her, and I noticed peripherally that she was in a thick shaggy bathrobe. Her bare feet dangled from where I held her against the wall.

For herself she dangled as if it was some ride at a park and she was having the time of her life, with a bright eyed smile on her face.

"Why, Harry, I didn't think you liked hurting women…and I'm just a little girl." She coyly pouted, looking angelic in her casual bathrobes; white as snow.

"You are no little girl, bitch. Why did you send her to me? Why are you doing this to her?" I demanded. Her eyes narrowed when I called her a bitch but her expression stayed the same.

"A gift to you my Knight, you know I can't tell a lie. Don't you like her? You love women who need to be saved, a perfect gift for you I made," she proudly explained, and she was right, she can't lie. But then, this was Maeve, nothing was simple, and this could hardly be all the truth. I tightened my hand and she laughed that infuriating childish laugh of hers.

"You can take care of her, you can save her, all you have to do is be cruel to her," she went on as if she was presenting me with the promised land. "She likes to be abused, you should see how she comes when-" My other hand came up and smacked her across the face, I couldn't stand it if she finished her sentence.

Three months in winter's service and I have the heartlessness to hit a pre-legal girl. Maeve's turned away face became hidden by her wet locks and I saw the slow but steady crystals forming at the roots of her hair and running down to the ends – she was calling her power. My hand on her throat froze in an instant, jagged rings of ice grew out of my flesh like shackles of my servitude to Winter. 

But that is a power that goes both ways, and as powerful as Maeve is, even before my Knighthood I could go one on one with her. She had turned her face and was staring at me now, her lips parted only in the faintest frown of anger. 

"Cute, but not enough," I whispered, and the arctic wind settled in my lungs blew out. I saw her vibrant eyes dry, water, and the tears freeze. Her perfect lashes iced together and the cherubic lips became blue. Her jagged rings of ice crawled up my arm and to my torso as she fought me. Winter streamed in my veins, darkness came into the room like light had slunk away; it kneaded her flesh with rough thick hands, pulling, pressing, pushing over her. It slipped into her mind, spreading fear, uncertainty, weakness.

Her simple white bath robe fell away under my assault, the affect of the polar winds only two obvious on her exposed body. The moving and frantic depressions being made on her body by invisible hands of darkness made her look sick and repulsive – I was not then nor now proud of what I had been doing to a truly beautiful being, no matter how cruel.

So I stopped; and the light from the fixtures of days gone by spilled their yellowish light on her form – she was stunningly beautiful, in that disturbing virginal way again. It only made me feel sicker with myself. I looked away from her where she was huddled against the wall, the line of her spine curving out.

Trista rushed to us and picked up Maeve's robe, she jumped forward then caught sight of me and nervously held back, her azure eyes downcast. I took the fluffy robe from her and knelt by Maeve, awkward because of the rings she had cursed on me, but oddly they did not cause pain. Winter's grace probably kept that away.

She moved as soon as she felt the soft cloth touch her and rose from all fours with incredible regal dignity. She stood high chinned and waiting…I understood; I stepped behind her, disgusted enough that even her fully revealed otherworldly beauty didn't affect me. I dressed her, wrapping the robe around her, Trista took care of her arms, slipping them in the sleeves, all the while she stood like a statue; expressionless.

I stepped back around and gently tied the sash in front of her waist avoiding her eyes, and the fact of what was under my hand separated by the thinnest measurement of width.

"Treachery, from even you? You would kill your Queen, Knight?" Maeve asked. My fury returned two fold and I locked my eyes with her, eyes that showed wounded pride.

"You are not my queen, Mab is my Queen, only she has claim over me," I growled. Trista gasped and stumbled, tripping where she had been standing.

"Harry, mine, thine words ring so possessively of me. Is it so I have both your staff and heart at my service?" an older, richer and more womanly voice called. And it had some enchantment that sent a tremor beneath my skin and calmed me like I doubt anything else could. I almost forgot why I was angry, but I could see Trista's awed face from the corner of my eye and knowing the thrall's fate I couldn't forget.

"Mab," I greeted, not answering her question. It was bad enough she caught me beating up her daughter, it would be worse if I told her she didn't 'have both my staff and heart' at her service. I doubt Mab is any better at taking rejection than Maeve is; difference is Mab is a lot crueler and more powerful than her daughter. Ever hear the phrase 'Hell hath no fury'…yup, that applies first to Mab and then to any other woman.

She approached the two of us, Trista had crept away and was hiding in some corner. Mab as well was dressed in the same shaggy white bathrobe. I arched a brow.

"You called me to visit you on a girls' make-over day in? I should warn you I'm terrible at manicures but I can wax with the best of 'em." I think it was appropriate information to share, besides why did she want me when they were clearly having some strange sidhe woman bonding thing.

"Does your tongue not tire of the absent applause? Pray, when shall it silence itself in defeat, this constant optimist?" Mab asked with a smile, absently touching the point of one of the rings of jagged ice on me and making it disappear.

"You're making fun of me again aren't you? You do know that as your head henchman, I can and will unionize and strike?" I replied watching the uncomfortable scene of Mab raising Maeve's chin to look in her eyes; it was too motherly.

"Yes, dear, I know," she replied to me, her mind elsewhere. Again dismissing me in that disturbingly maternal manner, am I really like a chatter box kid to her? I had opened my mouth to ask, but then Mab bent her taller frame and laid a kiss with her lips of frozen mulberries on Maeve's forehead.

"Hush!" she said softly to her daughter, and Maeve's eyes became bigger and then she ducked her head and nodded once in obedience. "You must cleanse yourself again, this distraction has done naught but waste time."

Trista shuffled and opened the door wider. "My Lady," she tremulously called. I felt as if I shouldn't let her go with Maeve. Hell! That was the whole point, I was trying to protect her. But her blue eyes confused me again like they had before, she only had worry for Maeve. So I let her go; the Lady and her thrall. Soon I had other matters to care about. Mab was standing pensively, then she slowly raised her hand till it was parallel to the floor, waiting for me to take it and escort her.

I sighed inside, she expected me to be her chaperone every time we were together. She is old fashioned, big surprise. I took her arm staying shirtless, evidently it didn't bother her. Who am I to argue? She wants to walk around with a shirtless man, it's her business. We left the room and most of my things there.

Mab was in no hurry, from the corner of my eye I made note of her hair falling freely on her bathrobe. She looked relaxed and casual, I felt like I was getting a forbidden look into her life. I didn't realize I was staring until she laughed lightly and pressed her cool fingers in my arm to rouse me from my thoughts.

"My knight, you are such a dear child. It is for me to chose how you see me. But I shall dress in magnificent gowns befitting my station with you if you wish it," her voice was warm, and gently teasing. Warm, is not exactly a word you use for Mab, ever. So this was a fairly hair raising moment for me. 

"No, it's alright…you uh, look very nice." Oh! Great! Telling a woman she looks good in a bathrobe. Harry Suavo at your service. The hall tilted as the entire hotel did, soft amber light brought out the deep colors of the wooden panels. I noticed this because Mab was in a pondering mood; and walking so slowly I wanted to say maybe we should sit down somewhere until you actually want to get to wherever we were going.

I shrugged, there are worse ways to spend your day than with an incredibly beautiful and dangerous woman on your arm taking a walk to think. I thought she would have said something about Maeve by now, it looked like that is what she was thinking of.

"She will be the Queen Who Is one day," Mab stated, I hate it when she listens in on my thoughts. She might have heard that too. I sighed and Mab hummed beside me in agreement. So she did hear me.

"I didn't sign up for that."

"You are Winter's Knight, and one day she will be Winter," Mab patiently corrected me, and before I could say anything else her slender hand held mine with a little more strength warning me to let her have her say. "Your care for me pleases me, but my childe, I can not have you and my daughter at odds."

"Well, you will be Winter long after I'm dead and gone, so it doesn't matter." I shrugged, trying not to upset her hand on my arm. She laughed bemusedly by me and I gave her a wary look.

"It is no wonder Leanansidhe covets thy company so jealously. Thy innocence and stubborn heart are lovely." I blushed from embarrassment at the praise and being thought a fool again. "Believe thee time, and old age on its heels, will touch thee while ye yet serve me?"

I felt my blood run cold, and it had nothing to do with being in the presence of the Winter Queen. Immortality is a scary thought, I can't even think of living longer than the average person without breaking out in a sweat. She meant to keep me alive as long as I served them…That's easily solved I'll just have to find a supernaturally powerful enough hornets nest to kick over and I'll be dead in no time. Maeve is not getting her claws in me.

"Why do you despise her so?" Mab suddenly asked. I didn't see the point; she had to have known already. I was too tired to play games, so I answered her without thinking much.

"She's cruel and careless, and spoiled. She's just a little kid with too much power," I blurted, putting into words for the first time what I really thought of her. It was a surprise to me too, I thought she only annoyed me, but it went deeper than that. Mab paused in her stride and I felt the temperature drop a little. She turned to me, her green oblique eyes delving into mine.

"Am I not all those things? Did you not believe those things of me when you accepted the mantle?"

"No, you're not…you're not careless. At least I can see that," I said more firmly than probably either of us expected. She gave a soft smile.

"Winter's heart is not a warm place, dear Harry," she said in away that was a challenge.

"So Winter would like to believe," I shot back and winked at her. She arched her white brow and gave a wry smile.

"So much of your mother's arrogance in you that I wish to kill you where you stand, and so much of your father's sweetness that I want to kill you twice," she murmured, placing her hand on my cheek with a soft caress. It's a bit disorienting to hear about the homicidal thoughts of your liege regarding you and at the same time being petted by them.

"Err…sorry?" I tried.

"When she is the Queen Who Is, the power of that station will go to her. You bested her today Knight. There will not be a second time you do so." There was a warning in what she said. Maybe that she would finish me if I did or maybe Maeve would not lose next time. Mab was looking back to the room Maeve had disappeared into and had a fond smile.

"Thy knowledge of Winter is incomplete. My child is to be cruel to remain uncontested. To carry herself in such a manner that will have the Court bow to her for her character and will, long before they bow by force to her power in Winter.

"The Queen Who Is has always proven her worthiness in the years she was the Lady," she revealed. That was not like the Sidhe at all or Mab. They don't just offer up information, there must be a catch.

We stood in the middle of the hall, her looking back, me looking at her strangely wistful face. A door creaked open at the other end and Mother Winter stepped through in her hidden form under loose robes and hood, except this time they were pure white.

"It is time Knight, the river floweth over, and thy mettle is to be tested," the Queen Who Was called out to us. So this is what it was about, the actual reason I was made a Knight, why they needed a knight; to protect them when Winter's power flowed overwhelmingly.

I felt nervous and had a certain amount of performance anxiety. This was the thing that could harm both Mother Winter and Mab…and yes, Maeve as well, none of them powerless by any stretch of imagination. I was the one to stop that from happening. Joy.

Mab guided me forward even though it was she who held my arm not the other way around.

"I long for the day when the new Lady will come to Winter, and what a storm she will be. Another one who I will wish to end for having too much of their father and mother in them," Mab whispered. Just to take my mind of what was coming, I became curious and asked her about it.

"You know who she will be? Can't wait for the pitter patter of little feet again?"

"And so do you, you will know her well." Mab's eyes flashed with something. "She will be your daughter after all."

Exsqueeze me? I froze in the hall, staring at her completely blind sided.

"Come again?"

"I will spend my days in laughter at the Winter Lady attempting to order her sire, and her Sire attempting to discipline his future sovereign." She smiled a true, radiant smile full of mirth. I felt none of it, I was blood-boiling furious.

"I promised you no child of mine! Only me! My servitude does not pass to her or any of my children!" I growled punching the wall next to her head. In the next instant the blood in my veins chilled, I was lifted and thrown into the wall opposite where I became a part of the décor. Mab brushed off the splinters that had fallen on her shoulder from where I broke the wall.

She brought me down with her power and held her arm out again, I took it again; shuddering. Cold, scared, angry, terrified of what she had revealed about my unborn, un-conceived child.

"All children bear the choices of their sires, this is what Leanansidhe told your mother, and I told your mother's mother before her. It is good fortune that I care for you, where I cared nothing for them." I trembled next to her, my teeth chattering, at least this was more like the Mab I knew. Nice of her to let me know she knew my mother and grandmother.

"My daughter, she can't be a queen. The Queens only come from your blood, unless something terrible happens, like-"

"The Summer lady," Mab finished for me. "Indeed, the line of Queens is in my blood."

"But then how?" I asked and stopped again, when the thought of exactly how crossed my mind - Maeve. Mab nodded to me, she was listening to my thoughts.

"I leave my daughter and you to arrive at the relationship you will. Know this that both you and her are under my protection, as is my daughter's daughter. No force will question this, and be you wary of this fact. You are forbidden to reveal this knowledge to the Winter Lady, do you hear me my knight?" she demanded. I was too stunned to say anything and just nodded.

Maeve and I were going to have a kid…Maeve isn't even legal. I'm going to Hell! I'm so going to Hell! Maybe Michael can pray for me…my daughter. MY DAUGHTER! What have I gotten you into?

"Harry, my darling, do not vex yourself. I have faith you will be a good husband to her." Then Mab leaned and kissed me just like she had Maeve just ten minutes ago.

"Marry Maeve?" I asked confused. Somehow that hadn't even occurred to me.

"Come before the hour is late," Mab commanded, and I followed in her wake, staring at the red carpeted floor. I was lost in my thoughts so I felt it before I saw Mother Winter's withered hand on my bare chest, gross! She left it there and peered at me from the dark depth of her hood. Mab had entered the room and I couldn't see beyond.

"You dare come in this chamber reeking as you are! Cleanse yourself. Foolish time you and Winter Lady chose to spend in games of sport. You can not enter here and fulfill your duty as such. Go relieve yourself and then purify yourself," Mother Winter ordered in a high, physically cold and biting tongue.

"Mother Winter, I feel as relieved as I can, I went to the little boy's room before I came. I think I'm good, unless you too have some life altering revelation for me?" I retorted sarcastically. Mab's laughter floated out like chimes from the room.

"She means thine repressed and unfulfilled energies. Find the thrall and finish what was left undone. Be quick to satisfy yourself, your mind and body must be sated before the ritual begins," Mab said in an admonishing tone, I was once again red with embarrassment.

"Oh…" I said and stayed cemented in the doorway. It was incredibly awkward.

"Knight, I order thee, bed the thrall and return here swiftly. Go now," Mother Winter snapped and shut the door in my face. I tore at my hair and jumped in place throwing a tantrum. Why does everything have to happen to me?

I stalked down the hall to Maeve's room where I had seen Trista disappear. What did they expect me to do? Barge in with a trumpet and announce 'By order of the queen I am her to have sex with you, she commands it so. Submit to me!'

And then I froze for the third time in the space of ten minutes in the hall. Sex by order of the Queen?

Fornicating Under Consent of Queen?  
…

…

I slumped down against the wall, staring blankly. FUCQ me!


	4. Omake Three

Fear of the Wet Tee-Shirt

By Surrarin

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I've never actually bought a present for a girl by myself.

I haven't ever bought Murphy a gift, despite all we've been through. We're friends, but the present thing is just something we've never attempted to cross. On my part it was usually because I rarely had enough money to buy something which could be considered 'birthday' material. The closest I've ever came to buying a gift for a girl has probably been with Elaine, and even then, I never actually bought her a gift, I usually just got the pieces for it and made it myself.

One of the best presents I had ever gotten her, in my opinion was a charm bracelet, not literally charmed. It was a novelty one, nothing special about it. But the way it had made her eyes light up had been beyond special. What she gave me afterwards had been quite special in itself. But let's not stray onto that thought, I don't want to connect Elaine with this more than I have to.

What do you get a girl who you have an unstable relationship with? Material gifts by themselves would probably just be laughed at, and treated with suspicion. So nothing simple as some lingerie- Not that I'd get this particular girl that, it'd be too weird.

Ideally, I know for a fact she'd jump head over heels for a human child, maybe a few weeks old. She asked me for one as payment before. Not just any child, but my own. But I haven't sunken so far that I'm going go and buy a life, or create it and give it to her, not yet anyway. Because I'm not sure what she'd do with it. Probably sacrifice it or something.

Flower's are out of the question; they'd die within getting a foot near her. Ornamental flowers might work. Like one made of ice, although that might be just a bit too cheesy and romantic. It's supposed to be a peace offering of sorts, rather then an affectionate gesture. Although, leaving the gesture open ended might be the way to go, cover a few of my bases, so to speak.

Maybe if I got her a big ass sword with an engraving it'd work.

But where would I get a big ass sword, and more importantly, who would engrave it? I don't think I have enough time to take up sword forging as a hobby, or rather that would have been the case had I not taken Mab up on her offer, as it was, I had all eternity to learn whatever It was I desired. But the present couldn't wait for eternity.

I wish It was Mab that I was giving the present to, it'd be so much easier. As ironic as it sounded, it was true. With Mab I didn't have any specific reservations of what to convey to her. Considering her station there were even less material things I could give her that would be appreciated. A gesture of good faith would be all the present she would probably see fit to accept. A rose would fit perfectly. Not a normal rose, no.

Something morbidly beautiful and sentimental, like arose made out my blood. She'd love that, for the symbolism, and for what she could do with it. Which amounted to few good things on my end. On second thoughts, I'm glad it isn't Mab that the gift I'm getting is going to go to, Maeve could be almost seen as a blessing to get a gift for. Almost.

Something Material, something sentimental in some sense, something she'd like. Whenever I've seen Maeve on a formal occasion, she's always worn the same kind of clothing. There have only been a few variables, one of the more noticeable ones being her shirt, or rather, what is on it. The first time I had ever met Maeve, her shirt had read 'Off with his head.' One of the last times I had seen her she had a cute little one with 'Heartless Bitch' in pink letters and an emblazoned heart. She always seemed to take a detached satisfaction in watching me read the logos.

I had the 'what' of the gift now. Now I just needed the specifications. While I could always just guess her measurements, I doubt she'd find the gift pleasing in any sense if I got the measurements wrong. If it was too big she'd take it as a slight against her figure, it would be good as calling her fat. And if It was too small then she'd take offence that I hadn't put enough thought into it. The later was more unlikely, but still possible.

Which means there was only one thing left that I needed to do before I set out for the gift.

Harry 'Bedroom Raider' Dresden. 

Technically, what I was going to be raiding wasn't a bedroom. It was a cross between a Tomb and a hotel. But I didn't feel like breaking any copyrights.

Despite the amount of times I had been to the underground establishment, I had never actually tried to learn it's proper name. I have never seen a reason to. I came, I saw, I talked, I left. That was my relationship with the place. Outside the entrance to the old building a crusted plaque was soldered to the building. In faded plain letters a name stood out in the dim light.

Ne'er Winter.

Was it the original name? Or had, at some point, someone decided to rename it?

I dismissed the thought from my head. I wasn't here to take in historical details. Unless you could count Maeve's three sizes as historical facts.

Maeve's room in Ne'er Winter was quite close to mine, across the hall and down a few meters to be a bit more exact. I've never been in there, I've caught a few glimpses, one of the most prominent being when Maeve had decided to use Trista for some personal relief.

My lips thinned out slightly.

I ignored the path the thoughts were going down and grasped the door handle on Maeve's door. I twisted it, and, to my surprise, found it open. Maeve probably didn't have any need to lock her door. Only an idiot would break into her room, or have malicious intentions. An Idiot, or exceptionally powerful person. Coincidentally, I'm still not sure which I am right now.

Maeve's room is surprisingly easy to describe. It's relatively empty, more or less the same as mine. Not surprising considering it's only a home away from home. For the Sidhe it was probably not even that. Maybe a change room, or a place between the Nevernever and Our world that they could travel through at ease. Now that I thought more about it, It was unlikely that what I was looking for would be here. The most she'd probably have in the drawers was some dead person's underwear. I slid my fingers under the ridge in front of the second draw from the top. It slid out easily.

My eyes widened in mild surprise.

I had known that Maeve had had an extensive collection of shirts. But the sight of the draw **literally** laden with the shirt imprinted shirts was impressive. She even had shirts in different languages by the looks of it. I recognizes some Latin words, Japanese characters, Chinese ones, there were too many to take in all at once.  
"Hell's Bells," I murmured softly as I shook myself out of my stupor. I picked out a simple one, one I doubt Maeve would miss. Apparently simply getting her a shirt from a retail outlet wouldn't be enough. Anything I could buy would probably be already in her collection. I licked my lips lightly, wondering if they still had Shirt presses in the city.

As it turned out there was a shirt press still in Chicago. And my luck held out for once. It wasn't shutting down, or broken, hell, it even had a complete staff. But that brought up another problem. One which couldn't be avoided; What did I want to have imprinted on the T-shirt? My eyes roamed around the displays. I wasn't really surprised that the majority of the shirts had been visible in the neat pile in Maeve's drawer. A fair few weren't, but they were not the kind of logo's I could see her displaying.

I honestly couldn't see Maeve wearing a shirt saying 'I'm cleverly disguised as an adult'. 'I'm cleverly disguised as a human' maybe. But the girl had fixation on the later teens. I used to assume it was because of her station under Mab that she chose to look like that. But I'm not so sure anymore. She might just do it to cause people around her grief.

My eyes lingered on a three different designs.

"Can I help you, Sir?" A polite voice asked from behind me. I turned around to face it's owner.

The girl looked to be in her early teens. I doubted she was more than fifteen years old. She had multicolored hair. Purple streaks were mixed in with dirty blond. Her hazel eyes stared up at me uncertainly, the way she held herself suggested nervousness. I frowned lightly, and she tensed. I'm not that intimidating am I?

I smiled down at the girl, "Do you do Custom designs?" I gestured towards the three shirts I liked, "I want to make a few small changes to the designs," The girl nodded.

"It costs extra for custom designs, and you'll have to wait for them to be finished," she glanced back to the counter, "If you pick out the designs you want and tell me what you want changed on them I can sketch the designs, and if you like them than I can create a stencil and print them."

"Sounds good," I nodded to the girl, wondering how much it would end up costing me.

A few hours later we were finished. The girl had some real talent with her hands. The designs were done, remarkably well. She made a few deviations from my suggestions, when I pointed it out at the beginning she reacted in an odd way, glaring at me, but she stopped her changes. The next time it happened I simply remained quiet. Her changes worked well. She was clearly the more artistic out of the both of us.

By the end she had created three design, which were perfect. She asked me who they were for, after I explained the designs to her. I told her they were for my…younger sister. She seemed to understand well enough, before she began to ask me questions.

How old was she? _Older than me.__ "Turning eighteen in a week."_

What were her hobbies? _Enslaving Mortals and Bargaining with peoples souls. _" Socializing and Ice Skating."

Favorite Season? It was a relief to get a question I could answer honestly, "Winter."

She had further personalized the shirts. The extra changes were mostly to do with colors, no extra figures in the design, or pieces, just colors.

In the end the total came to seventy dollars, plus a sixty dollar tip. From the looks of it, the girl hadn't expected a tip almost as big as the commission. I briefly wondered what her wages were, but quickly put it out of my mind.

A week passed, during which, I went to the shop to pick up the shirts, and using my prowess in stealth, managed to replace Maeve's shirt without anyone being the wiser.

At the end of the week, I found myself in an unknown part of the Nevernever. While it would have been only too easy to simply call Maeve up, It wouldn't be the smart thing to do. Of course, asking Mab to help me find Maeve wasn't exactly as smart, but it ranked fairly close. Mab had given me the use of a carriage. It was driven by a pair of Wintermares, and was unmanned, but not before commenting on the package I had been holding. She seemed pleased, though, I couldn't help but feel that she found the gesture lacking in regards to how she would have preferred I went about it.

A light shiver ran down me. There was no wind in this part of the Nevernever, only ice. As far as I could see, there was only ice. The majority of which was in the form of trees, bushes. The 'grass' itself was made of ice. It looked dangerously sharp. The carriage was a dozen or so meters behind me, near the edge of Ice field, I suppose you could call it. The ice wasn't clear. It was woefully clouded. The visibility was further spoiled by a lingering mist, hovering between the towering sculptures of ice.

Maybe if I waited Maeve would come out on her own, after she finished whatever she was doing? I doubted it.

I lifted my foot up and gently nudged the blades of grass. I let out an unintended laugh. They really were **blades** of grass. Solid as steal, they looked like they'd be a bitch to stand on, I really didn't want to get the bottom of my feet cut up. Destroying them was an option, but not a good one. I wasn't really sure if anything made it there home. While I usually am up for needlessly destroying things, I felt the need to hold myself back, just this once.

I glanced around the field.

This wasn't exactly going the way I had planned. It was supposed to be as simple as Show up. Give the present, apologize for letting my anger get the best of me, accept any taunts she saw fit to throw, and then leave. It wasn't supposed to involve razor sharp fields of grass made out of ice.

My eyes raked up and down over the field in front of me. There were slight discrepancies in the grass, where it seemed to have been melted down. It trailed back to the edge of the field, just before one of the first trees. I exhaled in an abject relief. There was a path. I tried to ignore the ice crystals forming in my mouth, and moved towards it.

My foot pressed down against the globs of ice. It was surprisingly solid, and firm. I toyed with the idea of seeing if my feet would slip if I shifted my weight enough. It was easily dismissed with a glance to the glittering ice-composed grass. I didn't feel like being cut into ribbons. I walked onwards, into the garden that seemed to have come out of a fairy tale.

The crystalline trees loomed over head. Light was reflected throughout the misted ice. Even I was humbled by the sheer tranquility and beauty of it. The soft bite of cold against my skin was all too real for me to be swept up in the surreal landscape. I hesitantly reached out and trailed my fingertips against the bark of the closest tree. It was fine to touch, I could feel the crystals of ice crush under my fingertips. I withdrew my hand as quickly as I had placed it. I felt slightly guilty as my eyes focused on the imprint I had accidentally created. The single blemish on the enhancing tree all but destroyed its luminosity. It seemed to die before my very eyes, becoming little more than a chunk of ice. A extremely detailed and well crafted piece of ice, but a piece of ice no less. It looked so forsaken when compared to the majesty surrounding it. I forced myself to look away. I didn't want to look at the thing I had despoiled.

No fairy tale is complete without a fair maiden.

This fairytale's maiden was kneeling by herself in front of a bed of flowers. Maeve looked almost innocent in the way she held herself. Her back was facing me. I couldn't see her face. Instead of her usual attire, she was dressed in little more than a thin gown made of mist, it clung to her body loosely, I could only see the vaguest of hints to her figure. I swallowed. I had once seen Maeve naked completely. I hadn't really been able to appreciate her body at the time, at the time I had all but desecrated it with my magic, befouled it by wishing harm upon her. From what I could see, she was moving her hands, I was the barest wisps of cold encircle her hands, all the while pouring out of my sight, and into her hands. I debated briefly with approaching her, or simply waiting.

My feet began to move without my final choice, which had apparently already been made.

"You have taken my pride from me; do you endeavor to take my joy as well?" Maeve's voice was soft. It held no real emotion. No anger, nor hate. Simple resignation, it was unsettling. I likened it to staring down the barrel of an empty gun. The most dangerous element was gone, but it still held the apprehension.

"I'm sorry?" I was mildly started despite the tranquility she retained.

Without looking back she gestured behind me, where I had come into the clearing from. In the direction of the tree I had….killed? It looked dead compared to everything else around it. "I'm sorry," I repeated it as a statement, not a question. Maeve became still in mid movement, she slowly turned her head and glanced over her shoulder towards me. Her eyes seemed alien, cold, and inhumanely intense.

"You will be."

Maeve's words hit me like a cold bucket of ice water. And considering the world around me was probably minus a few dozen degrees.. It didn't bode well. Mab's words echoed in my ears.

"I brought you a present," I offered and pulled the black wrapped gift from out of the inside of my jacket.

Maeve's eyes focused on it and narrowed. Was there something I had missed?

"You would give me a gift, and hide it's contents?" her voice remained soft, but there was an indescribable edge to it, "Do you take me for a fool, Knight?"

I didn't know what to say at first. But my mind moved into overdrive. I saw the problem, one which I should have taken into account, but hadn't.

"I don't expect anything in return," I explained, "It's a gesture…of good faith." I held out the package.

Maeve's disposition was unnerving. I had come to expect certain things from her. I expected her to act haughtily superior to me. I expected her to take satisfaction in the fact I had come to apologize to her. I expected her to all but try and kill me. But she didn't. I could tell she wanted to do something. It was in her eyes. No matter that she had nothing I could recognize as a soul. Her eyes still held vaguer recollections of how she felt.

"The traditions of the Sidhe prevent such exchanges," her voice had a slightly condescending tone to it, "To go against it is to insult our highest traditions, would you so blatantly disgrace winter?" her eyes sharpened ever so slightly, "Would you have me disgrace myself?"

"Answer me, Knight," her voice had a warning tone to it.

I was shocked, flabbergasted even. I really had overlooked such an important thing to them- Probably to me now. The situation was escalating away from what I had intended it to be.

"How about you just look at it, and if you decide you like it than you can give me back something of equal worth?" My voice sounded hollow to my ears.

But the look on Maeve's face told me she was contemplating it.

"Give it to me."

My feet shuffled forwards of their own volition. The black wrapped package was snatched from my hands. Maeve tumbled the package in her hands, looking at every single side of it. Her fingers tightened on the paper for a moment, looking as if they were about to rip it, before holding off, hesitating only just. She found the edge of the wrapping paper and tediously unfolded it. I had expected her to simply tear it to shreds.

The wrapping fell away to reveal three shirts neatly stacked on top of each other. Along with a simple white card. Maeve picked the card up off the clothes with an unreadable look on her face. She frowned lightly, and the card seemed to flash freeze. The next second it shattered as she snapped it between her fingertips. Her attention returns to the shirts. All three of them were white, the only difference between them was the imprints they had on them.

" Five, fifty three, forty three, one," she murmured curiously, her finger tips running over the details, "Boron, Iodine, Technetium and Hydrogen." Her eyes flickered up to mine, mirth barely hidden in them, before they switched back to the shirts. As her eyes passed over the second logo, a ghost of a smile appeared on her lips.

As her eyes met the last shirt, the smile disappeared.

"I don't like this one," her voice was as cold as the landscape. My eyes managed to catch the logo, before, as she had done with the card, she flash froze the article of clothing, and threw it to the ground, destroying it.

This shirt wet – Priceless

That had been the logo on it.

Maeve didn't look like she was going to elaborate.

"Why not?" I finally asked.

The look in her eyes told me that I had asked a stupid question.

I suppose it had been slightly tacky, but I had assumed she'd take offence at the shirt that had been sneakily labeled 'BITCH'.

"Do you trust me?" her voice was curious, if not a bit taunting.

"No." I answered immediately, "Why?"

A slightly sour looked passed over her face, but it was gone the next moment.

"Remain as you are and I shall show you why such a T-shirt displeases me," she glided forwards. Literally, glided. Her feet weren't touching the ground as mine were. It was unnerving to be honest. She stopped in front of me, within arms reach. I felt a tug in the air around me. A farmiliar one, one which I had felt at Ne'er Winter, the last time I had seen Trista. Instinctively I reached for my own magic, but I let it go before I even pulled any up. There wasn't even enough power to freeze my finger.

I stared at Maeve bemusedly, unsure of what she was doing. The air around her shimmered like a mirage, before it slowly bled down her arm. She raised her hand and held it palm up. The air above it shimmered like a miniature aurora. The color slowly drained away, revealing a slowly expanding globe of water. I watched fascinated.

At one point, not so long ago, I had assumed that Maeve was only capable of brute force using her Sidhe powers. But this showed a different side, the sheer control she must have had to keep the water from freezing was far beyond me. If I tried the same thing with minters power I wouldn't have been able to get a drop of water. She was pulling moisture out of the air. No, not moisture, she was working with the base elements. She was combining Hydrogen and oxygen.

I wanted to touch it. I raised my hand up towards it, only to stop at her warning gaze.

"Now, watch," she commanded as she brought the floating sphere of water up to her lips.

A gleam of amusement shone in her eyes for a moment, before she blew onto the globe. It happened soquickly that I couldn't react in time. The sphere exploded towards me. It was over before I could even blink my eyes, although it took me a few seconds for the water to sink into my clothing. The bitter cold bit at my skin. I moved to grip my shirt and pull it off my skin, but Maeve's soft chilly fingers gripped my hands before I could.

"I told you to watch," she snapped, a glimmer of the personality I was used to returned.

She idly lifted her hand from mine and held out a single finger. She gently pressed it against the wet patch. I inhaled sharply as the damp biting feeling of my shirt turned into a sharp icy sting. I held myself back from reacting. The slight pain didn't hold up long. I suppose I had the power of winter to thank for that. I doubt I would have been able to be within a kilometer of where I was without it. My eyes fell down to my shirt, where Maeve's finger was still pressed against idly. From where her finger had touched, the water had turned to ice. Even now the tendrils of cold were branching out.

"As you can see," she paused for a moment and trailed her finger down my chest, "and feel," she added, " such an event would occur had a shirt I wore become wet." Her voice was lecturing, but it held an enticing tone.

I swallowed.

"Must be a pain during sex then," I almost winced once I said it. The cold wasn't doing my wit any favors.

Maeve quirked her head slightly, before smiling in a pleasant fashion, "It has yet to be a problem," her look became coy. The Sidhe's finger was tracing a vague pattern on my chest, her finger was moving ever lower. I swallowed again.

"You, my dear Knight, walk a very fine line," her voice was loftily, airy, "To blatantly call me such a name, and mock my very nature," her other hand held the give, along with the wrapping to her side. The mist that made up her dress was flowing around it. It gave me a very clear view of her leg. The dress did little to hide her form, and it was doing even less right now. It was only the cold that kept my reaction from showing.

"I could get you a different kind," I offered, my voice slightly weak.

Maeve noticed, her eyes had taken on a calculating, if not still curious gleam. I moved to step back, but my feet wouldn't lift off the ground. I panicked for a split second, before I looked down and saw that the bottom of my boots had ice encircling the rim. Maeve noticed again, there was no way she couldn't have.

"You seem skittish, my Knight." I ignored her and tried to dislodge my feet. A sharp stab of cold ran through my chest. A pair of emerald eyes glared at me, "Do not do that," Maeve's voice was forceful. I bit back a retort.

Maeve smiled again.

"If you had continued to try and break the ice you would have ruined my garden even more," She removed her finger from my chest and lowered herself to the ground. The pain in my chest vanished, leaving only a dull aching. My eyes followed Maeve on her descent, and I watched fascinated as her hand brushed over my feet. The ice that had begun to ensnare my boots slowly sunk back into the ground. I easily lifted my foot off the ground, and mumbled a quick thank you.

"I do believe it is time for you to receive your gift," the High Sidhe stood up in front of me and met my gaze directly.

"I don't need a gift," I began to say, only to falter as Maeve's gaze turned cold and alien.

"You would disregard the traditions of the Sidhe, that which you have chosen to uphold?" her voice was little more than a hiss, it was as biting as the air itself, cold, harsh, warning.

I felt the stirrings of power within Maeve. It wasn't lashing out, it was… the closest description I could come to, was that it was like a coiled cobra, preparing to lash out. I didn't reach for my power, I didn't want to get into another fight with Maeve.

"I wouldn't," I tried to keep my voice placating, but not condescending.

The build up of power subsided.

"Then accept my gift," Maeve's voice had become slightly husky, she closed the gap between us in a split second. As I opened my mouth to speak, I was silenced. Maeve's lips pressed against mine, and a pleasant chill spread forth from my lips. Her vibrant eyes stared into mine. As much as I wanted to, I couldn't blink, or tear my eyes away. I vaguely felt her arms slip around my neck. Maeve had a cute nose, I absently noted as it pressed lightly against mine. Amusement flashed through Maeve's eyes.

I attempted to tear pull away, remove her lips from mine, but she wouldn't let me, her arms tightened around my neck ever so slightly and she pressed her front against me. Even through the crystallized front of my shirt, I could feel her ample breasts press against me. The mist of her dress did nothing at all to shield her, it was probably why she wore it. Ever so slowly, Maeve pulled her lips away from mine. I only just managed to hold myself back from following her lips. I hadn't noticed how intoxicating they had been until they were gone.

Maeve smiled across at me, her eyes heavy lidded as she pressed her forehead against mine. "You said you were sorry before," she murmured, her voice husky. My brow furrowed in confusion.

Her words drifted through my mind.

_You will be_.

Maeve's eyes took on the intense, alien look I had always associated with the Sidhe.

"Yes," she hissed out as her lips brushed over my cheek and found their way to my ear, her freezing breath flowed over my ear, "You will be very sorry," a spasm of pain and pleasure tore through my body as she bit down on my ear. My body wouldn't listen to me, it wouldn't move. All I could do was feel the aching pleasure and pain drift through me as Maeve began her revenge.

_'Next time I'll get her the god damn chocolates.' _Was the only thing that ran through my mind as I felt myself falling.


End file.
